


fragetaną

by queensboro



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby's First X-Files Fic (I'm Baby), F/M, I.... am not happy with the summary but you know. That's Life., It's about the Fog and the Mountains and the feeling of being Watched
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:24:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensboro/pseuds/queensboro
Summary: She can't remember exactly why she decided to help near-stranger Fox Mulder write his book. In fact, Scully can't seem to remember much at all nowadays. She only knows two things for sure: Mulder seems more familiar than he should-  and the mountains and trees seem to be watching her every step.





	1. Chapter 1

_Audiences know what to expect, and that is all that they are prepared to believe in -Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead_

_____ 

The fog was thick this morning, Scully noted. She could barely see the peaks of the mountains that surrounded the town. She could still feel them, of course- you could always feel those green mountains, circling around you no matter what part of town you were in. Even now, on mornings like this, where the fog was so thick she could only just make out the steam coming out from her coffee and her car seemed translucent through the window, even now she still felt the mountains watching her. 

Scully shrugged her coat on and walked out the door, car keys dangling from her right hand, coffee gripped in her left. She had to focus- it was already 8:47 am, and she was expected by 9:00. Her phone told her that the drive would take ten minutes, but she knew it would take twelve. Scully wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was sure of it the same way she was sure of the mountains. Twelve minutes to drive to Mulder’s house. It seemed right. 

Granted, she had never been to his home before, had never even met him; she must have seen him around town before, and she had certainly heard of him (who hadn’t), but the name Fox Mulder only conjured up vague details: tall, dark eyes, hair that her sister had once spent five minutes describing in detail - but that was lifetimes ago, it seemed. She hadn’t seen Melissa in months, their interactions limited to quick phone calls and the occasional email. 

It was already 8:59, Scully realized with a start. It was even more surprising to realize she was about to pull into Mulder’s driveway. Exactly twelve minutes of driving, exactly twelve minutes to drive to a house she’d never seen before. She shut her eyes, waited for a few seconds, then opened them. No use in dawdling now that she was here. Foggy mornings were always like this. Disorienting. You would think she’d be used to it by now, after living in the same place for thirty years (give or take the years lost to college and medical school). 

9:01 am. Scully opened the car door and walked up to Mulder’s front door. She knocked twice, stepped back, waited. 

A voice from inside shouted out “Come in”, and she did.

_____ 

Fox Mulder was indeed tall with brown hair, dark eyes, and nice hair. His face was so familiar that Scully immediately decided she must have seen him before. Their eyes met, and a confused look passed over his face before quickly vanishing. A smirk took its place. 

“So, we finally meet, Dr. Scully. I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you here this morning.”

She raised an eyebrow. 

“I thought we agreed over email - Monday the 17th, 9am. Am I missing something?”

Not the most polite opening words to her new coworker (Employer? Peer? What was she here for, again?), but it was too late to take them back. Mulder didn’t look too put off; if anything, he seemed to appreciate her terse tone, and his smirk became less sharp, more friendly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest anything. You’ll have to excuse me, it’s been a long time since anyone voluntarily worked with me. I’m glad to have you on board, Doctor.”

“I’m glad to be here, Dr. Mulder.”

He smiled politely. 

“Please, I don’t think I deserve the honorific.”

“A PhD in Experimental Psychology from Oxford University makes you a doctor, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, you’ve done your research! Well, I hate to break it to you, but my diploma hasn’t had much use to me. I’m washed up, haven’t you heard? Sitting here in my childhood home, half-assing a draft for my book, I don’t think that’s what my thesis advisor meant when he said he saw great things in my future, Dana.”

The usage of her first name caught her off guard, but she was grateful to hear him mention his book. She’d almost forgotten the reason she was here in the first place. Help wanted, the flyer stuck onto her car door last week had said, Fox Mulder looking for someone to help him write a book on Brume’s history (or something like that, she hadn’t paid much attention once she saw how much it paid). And here she was, ready to use her minor in creative writing to help a man she’d never met write a book about the most boring town in existence.

Scully noticed with a start that Mulder, Dr. Mulder, Fox, whatever she was meant to call him, _ he _ was standing much closer than he had been. She could almost feel his breath against her face when he leaned down and grinned.

“Welcome aboard, Doctor. Glad to have you here.”

“Thank you, Fox. Could you tell me more about your project? The flyers and emails weren’t too clear.”

He stepped back and laughed, before turning around to walk over to his desk to grab a stack of papers.

“No one’s called me Fox for as long as I can remember. Just Mulder is fine.”

She mumbled out a neutral response, feeling embarrassed at his dismissal. As she waited for him to finish rifling through his papers, she glanced around the room she’d been standing in for ten minutes now. It was well decorated but clearly dated- she remembered he had mentioned this was his childhood home. The floor had carpeting that clearly hadn’t been changed (or, she feared, cleaned) since 1975, and the walls were covered in wood paneling. Papers and notebooks were scattered on the floor and couch, and the same ink smudges she’d noted on his hands were visible on the worn, ugly red armchair tucked away in the corner facing the windows. Maybe he hadn’t been kidding when he said he was washed up. Granted, he couldn’t have been much older than she, but it didn’t look like Mulder had been doing much for the past few years other than scribbling and doodling on any random scrap of paper he could find. Not like Scully. She hadn’t been doing much in the way of medicine since she finished her residency and came back home, but she’d been busy. Hadn’t she? She must have been, but she couldn’t remember, why couldn’t she remember what she’d spent the past few years doing? She knew she’d been working, doing something but whatever it was she simply couldn’t -

“Here they are! My most recent notes. Feast your eyes, Scully.”

Mulder thrust a few papers in her hands, clearly expecting her to take them. She skeptically took the top page, leaving the rest in his outstretched hand.

“Mulder… how long did you say you’ve been working on this for?”

“Well, I think you’ll find that writing a book is a difficult process. Think of the greats. It took Mark Twain seven years to write _ The Adventures of Tom Sawyer _, and he’d already written a few books before that.”

“Am I to believe that these crumpled half-blank pages are the beginnings of the next great American novel?”

Once again, Mulder only seemed amused by her terseness.

“You flatter me, Scully.”

“I’m sure.”

He grinned and shook the remaining pages in his hand, waiting for her to take them. This time, she obliged.

“It isn’t much, I know, but it’s a start. Come on, look through what I’ve got so far.”

He led them both over to the couch and swept the notebooks to the side before gesturing for her to sit down. She did, absentmindedly taking a sip from her now lukewarm coffee as she stared at the maddeningly familiar handwriting covering the pages. She had expected Mulder to sit beside her, but instead he walked over to the red armchair. He sat down on the armrest, letting his right leg dangle down while his other foot remained on the armrest. He placed his chin on his left knee as he watched her go through his work, silently awaiting her verdict.

_____ 

“Let me get this straight Mulder. You’re writing a book about the history of Brume. Not the real history, just the last twenty-five years.”

“You got it, Scully. I knew you were quick on the uptake.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

Mulder raised his hands in half-sincere apology and gestured for her to go on. Scully sighed, taking off her glasses as she reminded herself to be more polite to this near stranger. No matter how familiar (and frustrating) he seemed, there was no reason to antagonize him before their first meeting was over.

“I just… I don’t understand what exactly you need me here for. I can see from your notes that you plan to interview locals and hear their stories, but I’m not sure how I can help.”

“You know the town better than I do, Scully. I’ve seen you in the supermarket, grabbing coffee, walking into the church- you know people. You talk to them, they know who you are, and they trust you.”

She tried to ignore the fact that Mulder seemed to be following her around town.

“Of course they trust me, why shouldn’t they? I’ve lived here my whole life, except for when I was gone for school.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly what, Mulder? You’ve lived here too, haven’t you? People should trust you as much as they trust me.”

“I’m sorry to say they don’t.”

He didn’t look too sorry. 

“Why not?”

“It looks like the good people of Brume don’t appreciate it when one of their own leaves town for eight years to get his degrees, and they really don’t like it when he comes back only to hole up in his dead parents’ house, leaving only to buy beer and DVDs. Then again, they didn’t like me even before Samantha disappeared, so it might be something less recent. Maybe it’s my nose? What do you think, Scully, does my facial structure disgust you? Be honest.”

She looked down at the carpet to hide her grin. Errant thoughts about Mulder’s hair and jawline almost distracted her from an important question.

“What do you mean, before Samantha disappeared?”

She raised her head and held his gaze, noting the sudden discomfort written all over his face.

“My sister. Samantha Mulder. She disappeared when I was twelve years old and she was eight.”

Scully started to speak, an apology halfway out her throat when he cut her off.

“That’s not why I need you here though, Scully. I already have my own ideas about my sister’s disappearance, that’s not the part you’re going to help me out with.”

“What do you suspect?”

She shouldn’t have asked, given how tense he clearly felt about the conversation. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care, and instead shrugged.

“Well, I have a few theories. I don’t want to go into the details, so for now you can pick whatever intrigues you most. How does alien abduction sound?”

“Mulder, are you seriously expecting me to believe that your sister was abducted twenty-some years ago by little green men in the middle of Brume?”

“Grey.”

“What?”

He paused and slowly raised his hand to his head. His eyes flicked up to hers, but he was looking through her, as if he had just woken up from a long sleep and was trying to remember his dreams before they dissolved into the air.

“Grey. You said green men. A Reticulan’s skin tone is actually grey. They’re notorious for terrorizing middle class Jewish families in small American towns.”

Scully smiled before looking out the window. The back of her head was starting to buzz, and she wondered if the weather had anything to do with it. Or maybe it was all this talk about Reticulans. She slowly walked over to the window, looking past her car, beyond the driveway and empty streets, into the trees that covered the mountains. Most of them were impossible to make out, but some pushed through the fog, poking out as a reminder that there was life on those peaks. 

“The fog is pretty bad today, huh?”

She started at his voice. How comfortable was she with this near-stranger that she had forgotten he was even here? Mulder joined her at the window, pointing at the trees she’d been staring at seconds prior.

“You can’t even see the trees now. Maybe you should head on home, before it gets worse. I’ve kept you here long enough, it’s already 11.”

She was used to driving in this weather, but she didn’t press the point. All of a sudden, she was filled with the urge to leave Mulder’s house, drive home and forget the whole experience. Forget the barely-written book, forget the Reticulans, and forget the familiarity and comfort that she felt every time he laughed. 

“I think I will head home. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help today.”

“I didn’t expect us to start working today, Scully, don’t worry. Besides, like you saw, I’m still figuring out the details of the project myself. Why don’t I shoot you an email later and we can figure out another time to meet- maybe later this week?”

Scully nodded and walked toward the coat stand in front of the door. 

“Sure, email sounds good. Let me know what days work for you.”

She walked out the door, removing the car keys from her pocket. As she stepped into the fog, she heard his voice again.

“Drive safe, doctor!”

She rolled her eyes. 

Twelve minutes later, Scully was home. 

_____ 

Thank you for reading!! the title means "to lose hold of/to forget" in Proto-Germanic if you were wondering

Chapter Two should be up by September 22nd! Special thanks to my pals... my friends... :^)

You can find me at queensboro.tumblr.com ! Let me know what you think blease


	2. Chapter 2

_What a fine persecution—to be kept intrigued without ever quite being enlightened.-Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead_

_____

Two days later Scully entered the town’s library, feelings of guilt weighing her down with every step she took. She paused, considering for the tenth time whether or not she should just go home. Before she could make up her mind, a young voice called out from behind the desk in front of her. “Hi, Grace, I was wondering if you could show me where I can find archives of the  _ Blume Tribune _ .”

“Sure, any edition in particular?”

“Any papers you can find from twenty years ago would be helpful.”

As she followed Grace deeper into the building, Scully remembered what Mulder had said- that she knew the townspeople and that they knew her, that they trusted her. He hadn’t been wrong. Each person she passed seemed to recognize her, either offering a friendly wave or nodding their heads politely in acknowledgment. Former classmates, previous neighbors, waitresses from her favorite diner, all of them knew Scully and were happy to see her, if only for a second. She wasn’t sure Mulder could say the same. Would Grace smile at him the same way she had smiled minutes prior? 

Thinking about Mulder made the feelings of guilt come crashing back. Scully tried once again to ignore them, instead focusing on the stack of newspapers Grace was carefully walking over with.

“Here you go, Dana! Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Grace, this should be all.”

“Ok, thank you! I mean, you’re welcome!”

Grace blushed as she walked away, nervously clenching and unclenching her hands. Scully smiled briefly before turning to the piles of the  _ Tribune _ staring up at her. It was time to get to work.

_____

An hour passed before Scully found what she was looking for. There it was, a short article hidden away on the third page, stuck under an advertisement for a candy store that had closed seven years ago. A grainy photograph of a young girl, followed by the words: Eight Year Old Girl Missing, Presumed Dead. The story offered little details, only saying that on November 27, Samantha Mulder went missing from her family home, and that the police believed her to be dead already. That was it. No words from her parents imploring her to come home, nothing from her teachers saying what a smart girl she was, no quotes from her brother saying that she wasn’t missing, she had been abducted. Abducted? Kidnapped? Or maybe she had been sitting at home with her brother, playing games and watching television, something about a fight, a Western movie, words and images were flying through Scully’s mind faster than she could process them. Her head was pounding all of a sudden, as if someone was screaming loudly at her to stop, to put the paper away and to forget about it all and move on, but she couldn’t forget, she -

Scully shoved the paper away, stood up, and walked away from the desk as quickly as she could without breaking into a jog. She knew she shouldn’t have done this. It was none of her business what had happened to Mulder’s sister, and it wasn’t fair to him to search through newspapers to find more details about a traumatic part of his life.

She wasn’t sure how she would face him tomorrow for their second meeting.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to cancel.

_____

“The sweet potato pie here is great, Scully; are you sure you don’t want to order yourself some?”

Scully raised an eyebrow, looking at the crumbs flying out from Mulder’s mouth as he spoke. She sipped her coffee, trying her best to ignore the bitter taste. 

“Unfortunately I’ll have to pass this time, Mulder.”

“Suit yourself.”

He continued to eat, only stopping once he finished the slice. He wiped his mouth and pushed the plate away.

“So, Scully, what have you been up to since we last saw each other?”

He had a habit of leaning in when he spoke to her, as if they were sharing secrets that weren’t for the waitress to hear. She couldn’t decide if she found it charming or odd.

“I did something, Mulder, that I’m not sure I should have done.”

He started making a joke, but stopped upon seeing the serious look on her face. Instead, he gestured for her to continue.

“I went to the library to find the newspaper coverage of the disappearance of your sister, Samantha. I know it wasn’t right, and that it was a personal thing that I shouldn’t have gotten involved with, but-”

“Woah, woah, Scully, slow down.”

He laughed a bit, bending his head a bit to make sure they were making eye contact before he continued.

“There’s no need to apologize. I wouldn’t have brought it up the other day if I didn’t want you to know. After all, we’re going to be working together, I think it’s only natural that you know some basic information about me.”

“I’m not sure I’d qualify family trauma as basic information, Mulder.”

“Well, unfortunately I would. Besides, most of the town knows, why shouldn’t my partner?”

“Regardless, I’m sorry for snooping.”

“And I appreciate your honesty, Doctor.”

He saluted at her, then turned to the waitress who had come to hand them the check. A minute later, they were walking out the door.

“So, Scully, what did you find? From what I recall, there wasn’t much printed in the  _ Tribune _ .”

“They only wrote her name, that she was missing, and what the police suspected.”

“Missing, presumed dead, right? And the photo from her school picture day, I think.”

Scully nodded.

“You’ll be surprised to learn, then, that we never got any more information.”

“What, the police couldn’t find any clues?”

“The police never searched for her, Scully.”

“That can’t be right, I’m sure they did their best.”

Mulder laughed, then winced in pain and gripped his temples. 

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. I get these headaches sometimes.”

“Migraines?”

“Not migraines, although I get those too. No, this is just a pain that comes when I think about things they don’t want me to think about.”

Scully stopped walking, staring at Mulder until he paused and turned back to face her.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, things they don’t want me to think about? Who?”

Mulder laughed sarcastically, doing nothing to assuage the sudden concern Scully felt for her partner’s mental state.

“Who knows! The fog, the mountains, maybe the family of possums that live at the gas station? It’s anyone’s guess.”

“Grey aliens, maybe?”

“You’ve cracked the case, Scully.”

Scully hesitantly started walking again, feeling a headache of her own coming on.

“Going back to my sister’s disappearance- I can assure you that the good and noble police officers of Brume stopped looking for her two minutes after they started. No clues, no leads, no investigative work. Nothing.”

“But that’s, that’s wrong Mulder! Surely they did something. You were a child yourself at that time, weren’t you? You must not have been told, but I’m sure your parents knew more than you or the public did.

“I promise you they didn’t.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes as Scully tried to remember if she had ever heard anyone discuss the disappearance. She had only been ten years old, herself, so she must have been shielded from it. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember hearing of any disappearances or murders or even tragic deaths in Brume. Thirty years, and no mysteries like the one Mulder had introduced her to. It should have been comforting to realize that she lived in a safe town, but for some reason Scully only felt anxious.

“Anyway, I didn’t bring you out here to discuss the details of a police case from two decades ago. I figured we should talk about our project. I have an interview lined up for tomorrow afternoon.”

That was enough to grab her attention.

“An interview? With whom?”

“The Tremond family. They live a couple minutes from here, I believe. Husband and wife with a young son. Both Mr. and Mrs. Tremond were born here, and so were their parents, and their parents’ parents.”

“Yes, I went to school with his younger brother, I think. I can’t recall if I’ve met either them or their son, though.”

“Well, you’ll have the opportunity to learn all about them tomorrow. What do you say, Scully, want to come along?”

“I’m your partner, of course I’ll be there.”

“I knew I was paying you for a reason.”

“Yeah, about the payment, Mulder. When do you want to discuss that?”

Mulder grinned and started walking a bit quicker.

“Why don’t we talk about that in a week. You know, see how things go?”

Scully rolled her eyes.   


“How about this. I’ll email you what sort of rates I have in mind and you can get back to me by tomorrow evening.”

His shoulders slumped overdramatically.

“Alright.”

_____

The sun was low in the sky as Scully ran along the road leading out of town, her sneakers pounding against the bumpy asphalt. She had decided to clear her head after the conversation with Mulder. She thought again about that comment- how he got headaches when he thought about the wrong things. Had it been another one of his bad jokes, like the space aliens from earlier that week? She had heard that Mulder was odd, spooky even, but he hadn’t sounded like he was joking or trying to spook her with that sentence. If anything, he hadn’t meant for her to hear it and had tried to backpedal when she questioned him on it. It was a ridiculous idea, anyway; was there a grand conspiracy of politicians trying to limit Mulder’s thoughts? Or had he meant something less personal, more universal? It was a bit too conspiracy theory for Scully’s taste. 

Her head jerked up as she saw a bolt of lightning in the distance, partially covered by the fog. Then, half a minute later, thunder. It looked like it was time to head back. Besides, she was nearing the exit out of Brume, which meant she had reached the end of her route. 

Just as she began to turn around, Scully heard what sounded like a child’s shout. The sound came from the forest on her right hand side, and when she heard another shout seconds later Scully wasted no time in running towards the voice. The ground was muddy as always, and she knew it would only get worse once the rain started. It was dark in the forest, despite the fact that the sun had yet to set. She tried to ignore the warning signs and quickened her pace. This was no time to hesitate.

A third shout came, this time sounding much closer. She followed the voice, calling out as loudly as she could.

“Are you okay? Shout back so I know where you are.”

“I’m here! Help! It’s going to attack me!”

After a few seconds, she found the source of the cry. A young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, was standing with his back to her. He was shaking, and as he heard her approach he quickly turned back to look at her. She couldn’t recognize him, but he reached an arm out back, waiting for her to take his hand as he turned his head back to face whatever was scaring him so much. Scully grabbed the boy’s hand and gently pulled him towards her. He didn’t move, standing his ground as he sobbed out a few words.

“I got lost and I can’t leave or else it’s going to attack me.”

“What will attack you? What are you staring at?”

He didn’t reply, just reaching out his other hand to point forward. Scully squinted, wishing she had brought her glasses with her. All she could make out was a dark form on four legs. It didn’t look like any of the native wildlife. It was too big, too misshapen. It didn’t look like it had fur or antlers or anything that might help her identify it. All of a sudden, its head slowly turned to face her, its eyes large and unblinking. 

She heard the boy whimper, but the sound barely registered. In that moment, all Scully could feel was the overwhelming sensation that she was seeing something not meant for her eyes. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She should have kept running and ignored the voice, or maybe she should’ve stayed at home with the blinds closed and the door locked. Anything to get away from the animal, creature,  _ thing _ that was staring at her. Something was very wrong, her body was screaming. Her heart was pounding, and her head was starting to hurt again. Scully heard a rustling sound and realized that she was starting to walk slowly toward the creature. She didn’t want to, she didn’t want to get any closer to it but her legs wouldn’t obey her. Her left leg moved forward, then the right, then the left again, and then-

“No! Stop! You can’t!”

The boy grabbed her with both of his arms and jerked backward, almost toppling over with her weight. Scully looked toward the boy with an expression of surprise, and in that moment of distraction, the spell was broken. When she looked back, the creature was gone. It was just her and the boy, alone in the woods. 

Scully hadn’t realized that it was already raining. She wondered how long she had been staring at that thing.

“Why did you walk towards it? The monster was going to eat us! It was so big, did you see how big it was? Why did you start walking? Who are you? I don’t know you.”

The child was getting worked up, clearly shaken up by the situation. She crouched down and placed her hands on his shoulders, waiting for him to slow down.

“My name is Dana Scully. I live in Brume and I heard you screaming so I came running. Are you hurt at all?”

“No, I fell down a few times because I was lost and I was so scared, but my mommy told me that it’s ok to fall down sometimes, and I didn’t get that hurt, it just was so scary.”

“You were very brave, and you were very smart to shout out. You’re okay now, I promise. I found you, and now we can get you back home to your mommy. Are you from Brume? Where do you live?”

“I live in my house with Mommy and Daddy, do you know them? Our house is dark on the outside but the door is red.”

“Do you know your mommy and daddy’s name?”

“Daddy’s name is like mine, he’s Jack and I’m Jack too but mommy calls me Jackie.”

“Ok Jackie, thank you for telling me. Do you know how you got here?”

“I don’t remember.”

Jackie looked like he was about to start crying, so she tried her best to smile at him. She felt like crying herself, but she needed to get him back home. As the boy bent down to rub at a scrape on his ankle, she noticed his name was sewn into the back of his shirt. Jack Tremond. 

“Jackie, I think I know where you live. Are your parents Alice and Jack Tremond? You live near the middle school and the police station, right?”

“The school with the big kids and the flag in front of it?”

“That’s it.”

“Yeah.”

Scully straightened up and offered him her hand.

“Come on Jackie. Let’s get you home.”

“Ok.”

They walked in silence. As they exited the woods, the thunder and lightning suddenly didn’t seem so threatening. The sun was still out, Scully noticed- it wasn’t dark yet. The realization should have been comforting, but she couldn’t feel anything but dread. 

During the entire walk back, Scully felt eyes watching her. Even when she dropped Jackie back at home to confused parents who hadn’t realized he wasn’t in his room, even when she got home and locked the door, Scully felt like the woods and mountain were watching her. 

_____

As Scully got in bed that night, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her. 

She must have imagined the creature, or maybe it was a deer and Jackie had scared her. She had been on edge all day anyway, hadn’t she? It was easy to mistake an animal in the dark and in the rain. For God’s sake, she had just been thinking about how ridiculous Mulder’s comments had been, and hours later she was inventing scary monsters that lived in the woods. She was thirty years old, not ten; her imagination shouldn’t be running wild like this.

She closed her eyes, determined to fall asleep. She was a rational medical doctor who believed in science and logic, not monsters.

Two minutes later, Scully walked over and deadbolted her door. 

It still took three more hours before she could fall asleep.

_____

Thank you for reading, and thank you to everyone who left kudos last time and/or commented!

As always, you can find me on queensboro.tumblr.com, and as always, thank you to my pals for the support :^)


	3. Chapter 3

_ There was no telling what people might find out once they felt free to ask whatever questions they wanted to. - Joseph Heller, Catch-22 _

_____

It was raining, but she could barely feel the raindrops hitting her skin. Scully stood on the crosswalk, unopened umbrella in her right hand. She slowly raised her head to the sky, reaching out with her left hand, fingers splayed. It was pouring, with loud peals of thunder rattling the sky every minute, but the only thing she could feel was fog. Fog, and dread.

She started walking, still staring up at the sky in confusion. There were no cars to worry about, no bikes or even pedestrians to get in her way. 

“Scully.”

She jerked her head down, spinning around to try and locate the source of the voice.

“Scully, it’s me.”

Mulder was standing across the street, staring right at her. Next to him stood Jackie Tremond.

“Mulder? Jackie? What are you doing here?”

Mulder didn’t reply and instead beckoned for her to come closer. As she approached, she noticed that the storm was moving closer- she could barely hear her own thoughts over the thunder, let alone her footsteps.

“Mulder, answer me. What are you doing here? Why is Jackie out in the rain?”

He grinned at her, and in that moment Scully realized that this wasn’t Mulder, not the Mulder she knew. His features seemed to change every second, making his face seem hazy and vague. The only thing she could clearly make out were his eyes. They were large. Unblinking. 

“Relax, Scully. I’m just going on a walk with my friend Jackie here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Mulder.”

She tried to look away from his eyes, to focus on the child instead, but Scully found that she couldn’t. Her body refused to let her turn away.

“There’s nothing strange about taking a walk in the forest, is there?”

The forest? They weren’t in the forest, were they? Scully could have sworn that she had been walking around the center of town, but she must have been mistaken, or maybe she had lost track of time. The buildings and pavement melted away from her periphery, turning into tall trees and mountains. With a start, she noticed that her right hand was empty. When had her umbrella vanished? Or had she left it at home, hanging in the closet?

“Mulder, what’s going on?”

As she spoke, Scully took a step back, and she noticed that her legs were shaking. Mulder must have noticed her obvious fear, and his grin grew wider- and so did his eyes, Scully thought, his eyes were growing bigger and so was he, he was towering over her now, his features only more and more blurry.

“I don’t know, doctor, you tell me. What do you see? What do you remember?”

“Remember? Mulder, what the hell are you talking about?”

The thunder was so loud that she wondered if he could even hear her. He remained silent, and for the first time in the conversation he broke eye contact, instead staring down at Jackie. The boy looked up at Mulder, then turned to face her. He started speaking, but she could barely make out the words. Scully bent down and tried her best to smile confidently at the child.

“What was that, Jackie? I couldn’t hear you too well.”

“I said, they’re going to kill me. They can’t make you die so now I have to die instead.”

She stood up so quickly that she almost fell over. The thunder had calmed down, Scully noticed, and they were out of the forest. The trees and mountains and fog were gone, and instead the three of them were standing in Mulder’s living room, in front of the ugly red armchair.

“What does that mean, Mulder? What is he talking about?”

Mulder shrugged, his features firm and unchanging, his eyes no longer so unnervingly large.

“How should I know?”

Scully woke up covered in sweat, sunlight streaming in through her curtains. It took a few minutes for her heart to stop pounding.

_____

In the light of day, the encounter in the forest was more puzzling than terrifying. Last night, Scully had been convinced that she and Jackie had been facing some sort of monster, or devil- it hadn’t been an animal, and it certainly hadn’t been a human. But of course, that was ridiculous. In her thirty years of living on planet Earth, Scully had never had cause to believe in the supernatural. What she had seen last night must have been an animal, or maybe even someone playing a horrible prank. Regardless, there was no denying how real it had all seemed or how scared she had felt. And if she was having nightmares, Scully could only imagine how Jackie was feeling this morning. In just a few hours, she would see the boy and his parents again. But there would be no time to ask him how he was feeling, or to ask his parents if Jackie had had any nightmares. After all, Mulder wasn’t interested in writing about the monster sightings of Brume, not unless it happened twenty years ago. 

Scully threw her half-finished yogurt away with a sigh. She couldn’t keep dwelling on last night, not when she had to meet Mulder in an hour for their interview with the Tremonds.

Her anxieties would have to wait.

_____

Scully arrived five minutes early for the interview and was surprised to see Mulder already there, standing with his hands in his pockets and staring at the sky with an unfocused look on her face. For a few seconds she found herself unable to approach him, remembering only how he had appeared in her dream. But then, he turned around and grinned at her, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave, and her nightmare was forgotten. There was something very human about Fox Mulder, and there was no mistaking this man for the creature she had dreamt. All hesitation vanished and was instead replaced with feelings of excitement and intrigue that she was beginning to associate with her partner.

“You’re here early.”

“So are you. Besides, I only got here a few minutes ago- I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d case the house out before the interview.”

“Case the house out? Mulder, I was under the impression that this was going to be a friendly conversation about Brume’s history, not some sort of investigation.”

“You never know. Maybe the Tremonds are hiding something exciting.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Who knows. Secret past, hidden lair, maybe a talking dog? Whatever it is, it’s our job to figure it out, Scully.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know the minute their dog starts speaking.”

“I knew you were the best one for this project.”

For a second they just smiled at each other. He had a nice smile, Scully thought, and she once again noted that Mulder seemed much more human than the other inhabitants of Brume. He felt real, solid. Familiar.

She broke the eye contact and instead turned to face the Tremonds’ house. It was strange to think that she had been here approximately twelve hours ago. What were the chances that she would come across Jackie in the woods the day before she and Mulder were set to interview his parents?

“Mulder, I think we should get started. They’re expecting us, and we’re a minute late.”

Mulder tore his gaze away from her and walked over to the front door, then knocked. Moments later, Alice Tremond opened the door. Her husband Jack stood right behind her. They both looked surprised to see Scully, but Mulder didn’t seem to notice as he walked in. She followed closely behind her partner, smiling as politely she could at the married couple.

“Thank you for having us. I’m sure you both know Dana?”

Jack smiled uncomfortably as he replied.

“Yes, we saw each other yesterday evening in fact.”

Mulder turned to Scully and shot her a look of confusion. She quickly shook her head, hoping he would get the hint and avoid the topic. He raised an eyebrow and turned back to their hosts.

“Great. Then let’s get started, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like some tea or coffee? I bought some berries this morning, and we have some wonderful pastries as well.”

“I’m fine, thank you Alice, let’s-”

Scully interrupted, reaching up to place a hand on Mulder’s shoulder as she walked past him.

“That sounds great, Alice, let me help you bring that out.”

She tried not to roll her eyes as she followed Alice to the kitchen. It was a good thing she was here to help with the interview; Mulder didn’t have a firm grasp on basic Brume etiquette- this might be an interview for a professional endeavour, but it was still a social call, and that meant the first twenty minutes of the conversation would be focused on the weather, harmless gossip, and comments on how good the desserts were. If he wanted to get any real stories and information, he would have to start acting like the rest of the town. 

Alice Tremond was tall, about five inches taller than Scully. She didn’t wear glasses, but she squinted whenever she had to read small text from a label or bottle. She hummed quietly as she waited for the kettle to boil and seemed to frequently forget that Scully was there. The kitchen was almost spotless, but several drawings and collages hung on the fridge, each one bearing Jackie’s sloppy signature.

“Did Jackie make these?”

Alice jumped at Scully’s voice, then smiled apologetically.

“Yes, he did. That one’s from last month.”

She pointed at a drawing done in colored pencil. It was impressive for a boy of his age- Scully could clearly make out trees, mountains, and what appeared to be a family of deer.

“He’s a good artist. Are these from school?”

Alice smiled fondly, clearly happy to talk about her son.

“No, most of them he made at home. Jackie loves to draw. His birthday’s coming up soon, Jack and I bought him this nice set of pencils and crayons.”

“Are any of these drawings more recent?”

All of a sudden, Alice’s smile vanished.

“No. His recent art... hasn’t been to my taste.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s the age I suppose. He’s less interested in cute animals and more in monsters, things like that.”

“He’s been drawing monsters?”

“I think so. He must have seen something in a cartoon, or maybe kids at school were sharing scary stories. It’s nothing horrible, just these animals with big eyes and claws, that kind of thing, you know? I couldn’t put them on the fridge, it made me nervous to look at them. It sounds silly when I say it, but you’d feel the same way too if you saw it.”

Scully was about to ask more questions when the kettle started whistling, and Alice turned away to grab the teacups. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the cups, and Scully got the hint. No more questions about the drawings.

Instead, she reached out to grab some plates, and together the two women walked back into the living room, where Jack and Mulder were sitting in silence. 

“Should we get started?”

Mulder wasn’t wasting any time with small talk, it seemed. He waited until Alice and Jack awkwardly nodded, then pulled out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket.

“Alice, can you start by telling me what your life was like twenty years ago? How old were you, where did you live, how did you spend your time?”

“Well, I must have been fifteen years old, in high school. I lived at home with my two sisters and my parents. I’m afraid I don’t have anything that really sticks out from that time- I was just a normal teenager. I did my homework, went out with my friends after school, that sort of thing. That was the year before me and Jack got to know each other.”

“You say you lived with your two sisters. Are they older or younger?”

“Oh, they’re both four years older than me.”

“But they were living at home? They were nineteen, wouldn’t they have been in college at that point?”

“No, they never went to college. No one in my family did.”   


“Is there any reason for that?”

“Well, I suppose none of us have ever wanted to leave town.”

Mulder leaned forward and grabbed a pastry from the table, ripping off a piece as he thought about her answer.

“Do all of you love Brume that much?”

Alice looked taken aback, as if she hadn’t ever thought about it before.

“Maybe they do. I wouldn’t say I love Brume, but it’s a good town, isn’t it? I’ve never felt the need to leave. It’s good to stay close to home.”

“You must have left Brume to go on trips or to visit relatives, things like that?”

“I… yes, of course I must have.”

As Mulder took a second to write something down in his notes, Scully turned to face Alice.

“What do you mean by that? Don’t you remember the last time you left town?”

“Ever since our son was born we haven’t really had the time to leave. Have we, Jack?”

Jack didn’t look too happy with the line of questioning, but replied regardless.

“No, we haven’t left since he was born. It’s not easy to plan a trip when you have a little boy to take care of.”

“Sure, but you haven’t answered Scully’s question. Can you remember the last time you left town?”

For a minute, both of the Tremonds were silent, looking at each other, then quickly looking away. Jack still looked unhappy, but Alice looked confused, scared almost.

Scully broke the silence.

“It’s alright if you can’t recall. It must have been a long time ago.”

“It’s not alright, Scully, neither of them can remember when they last left Brume. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”

“It’s perfectly rational that they would have a hard time remembering! It would have been at least eight years ago. Do you remember what you did eight years ago?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. And I’m sure you do too. I find it incredible that two individuals would have a hard time remembering such a simple thing.”

Mulder turned to face the couple, his voice slightly raised and jaw tense.

“Now can you please stop hiding the truth from me and tell me when you last left Brume?”

Jack stood up, his fists clenched as he glared at Mulder.

“We’re not hiding anything! I can’t remember, alright? You have no right to come into my home and treat me and my wife like we’re lying to you when we just can’t remember!”

Alice reached out and laid a hand on her husband’s fist, silently urging him to calm down. After a few seconds he sat down, shaking her off as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I promise you, Mr. Mulder, Alice and I aren’t hiding anything. Now can we please move on to a different question? I’m sure we can give you some sort of useful information for your book.”

Mulder raised his hands in mock surrender, then put his notes and pen down on the carpet.

“Sure. I’m sorry for raising my voice. Before we move on, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is? I’ll be quick.”

“It’s just down the hall, next to Jackie’s room. You’ll find it easily. The guest towels are the purple ones next to the sink.”

“Thanks.”

Mulder stood up and headed in the direction Alice had gestured, whistling cheerfully as he walked. Both Alice and Jack turned to face Scully, waiting for her to continue the questioning. She smiled uneasily.

“I’m sorry about that, Mulder shouldn’t have suggested you were lying.”

“Don’t worry about it Dana. I’m afraid both of our men have a bit of a temper.”

“Our men?”

“Well, you know- Jack and Mulder? Jack’s always been a bit hotheaded, haven’t you sweetheart?”

Jack rolled his eyes but returned his wife’s smile. But Scully was still confused

“I’m sorry, but there’s been some sort of mistake here- Mulder and I aren’t dating. We’ve only really known each other for a few days.”

The Tremonds looked surprised.

“A few days? You two looked so comfortable with each other, I would have guessed you’d been friends for years.”

“Yes, I thought the same as you did, Jack. Are you sure it’s only been days?”

“I’m quite sure.”

All of a sudden, a shout broke the silence. Alice and Jack jumped up from their seats and ran towards the hallway.

“Jackie!”

“Are you alright? What’s going on?”

Scully followed quickly, running into the bedroom at the end of the hallway. There she found Alice and Jack holding their son, who looked unharmed but shocked. He was staring up at Mulder, who was, in turn, staring at Scully with a confused look on his face.

“What happened, Mulder? Why did he shout?”

Before Mulder could answer, Jackie spoke up, pushing through his parents to stand in front of Scully.

“I didn’t know he was a real person, I saw him walk past my room and I thought I was dreaming but he saw me and I shouted because I was surprised!”   


“What do you mean, you didn’t know he was a real person?”

Jackie continued staring at Scully as he answered his mother’s question.

“I keep seeing him in my dreams, the ones with the monsters, but I didn’t know he was a real man.”

Alice and Jack turned to face Mulder, glaring at him accusingly as if he had done something wrong.

“I’m not sure I understand, Jackie. What is Mulder doing in your dreams?”

“He holds my hand and tells me that the monsters aren’t going to hurt me. But last night you were there and you told me I was going to die soon.”

For a second, everyone was quiet as they tried to understand what the young boy had said. Then, the room erupted into chaos.

“What monsters? What monsters am I protecting you from, Jackie?”

“I told you you were going to die? Jackie, did you dream the monster from last night?”

“Scully, what are you talking about?”

“Yeah, that monster! How did you know? Did you dream him too?”

“Get out of our house! Get out, you yelled at my wife and now you’re scaring my son, I want you out!”   


“Jack, calm down, they haven’t done anything wrong, it was just a strange dream! You know he’s been having scary dreams recently.”

“I don’t care what the hell he’s been dreaming, I want these two out of my house right now! This freak shows up with our son, doesn’t tell us anything and just leaves him on our porch as he’s sobbing and shaking, then shows up the next day without an apology or an explanation? Like hell I’m going to keep talking to them!”

“Alright, alright, we’ll leave. Come on Scully, let’s go.”

“No, daddy, don’t make them leave, I want to ask about the monster last night!”

“Jackie, sweetie, calm down, it’s okay. There was no monster, we talked about this, right? Just calm down.”

But Scully couldn’t hear Jackie’s response. She and Mulder were already out the door.

_____

Sorry for taking so long to post this chapter! It was hard to write, still not sure how happy I am with it... feedback appreciated as always!

Thanks for reading, chapter 4 should be up by 10/20. See you then :^)


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